


In the Year of the British Mandate

by ariadnes_string



Series: In the Year of the British Mandate [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alfie is a bit of a Zionist, Canon Jewish Character, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadnes_string/pseuds/ariadnes_string
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy wasn’t surprised when Alfie Solomons’ men jumped him a week after Epsom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Year of the British Mandate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueteak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/gifts).



> The British Mandate for Palestine was declared by the UN in 1922, the year in which the second season of _Peaky Blinders_ is set.
> 
> Spoilers through season 2.

Tommy wasn’t surprised when Alfie Solomons’ men jumped him a week after Epsom.

He was walking back to Ada’s through the London streets at midnight. He should’ve been taking more care, of course. But perhaps he was still cocky with victory. And, to be frank, everything that had happened after he’d crawled out of the UVF's freshly dug grave had seemed a bit unreal. When an unmarked van pulled up beside him and five or six men piled out, the only reaction he felt was a kind of dull recognition. 

It was a sad truth, but Tommy had taken enough beatings to know when men wanted to kill you, and when they were merely trying to make a point. The men who applied their fists to his face and torso in this instance were of the latter sort. He got in a few good punches, but in the end, they knocked him to the ground. They made sure to grind his face into the pavement and to deliver a few parting kicks; then they melted away into the night.

“Alfie says hello. And any more tricks like that grenade and he’ll kill you himself,” said the last one as he disappeared.

Tommy restrained himself from mentioning that in such a case Alfie would be surely dead himself. He heaved himself to his feet, just to make sure he could, dusted off his suit, and then sank heavily to the curb, an arm around his aching midsection.

“You’re bleeding, _bubeleh_ ,” said a familiar voice, and a slightly grubby handkerchief dropped into his field of vision.

“A bit far from your manor,” Tommy said, as Alfie settled himself beside him. Ada’s house was as removed from Solomons or Sabini territory as Tommy could manage.

“You’d be surprised.” Alfie flung a heavy arm around Tommy shoulders. Either by accident or design, he hit a tender spot. Tommy winced. Alfie noticed, and squeezed harder. “Bit of a delicate flower, are we? Here, let me.” He retrieved his handkerchief, moistened it from a flask, and set about cleaning the cuts on Tommy’s face himself. “Hang on, this is going to sting.”

Tommy tensed, but didn’t pull away. It did sting, and Alfie applied the cloth with enough force that it seemed, for a while, just a secondary stage of the beating. What was he up to? Had Tommy been wrong? Had the thugs been sent merely to soften him up, Alfie saving the pleasure of killing Tommy for himself? Stranger still, had Alfie had Tommy beaten just to engineer this moment of intimacy? Either way, for once, Tommy felt too exhausted to parse out the implications. Despite his roughness, Alfie's presence, his smell of yeast and old clothes, the warmth he radiated in the chilly night, were the most solid thing Tommy had encountered for days. Sitting here next to him, the world began to seem real again.

Alfie applied the handkerchief to the graze on Tommy's cheekbone, picking out bits of dirt and gravel, his thick-fingered hands deft and sure. The alcohol on the cloth burned, but it was a clean pain, something to hold onto. If his goal was getting rid of Tommy, he'd picked an odd method for doing it. Alfie muttered as he worked, _tsking_ and clucking like a market woman. "Such a face," he murmured at one point. "Such a face." 

Finally, Tommy roused himself enough to grab Alfie's wrist and pull his hand away. "Just what is it you want, Alfie? I can't tell if this is kill or cure."

They looked each other in the eyes for the first time in the whole, odd, episode. The light from the streetlamps was poor, but Tommy thought he saw something in Alfie's beyond his usual calm belligerence. He gave Tommy a small, rueful smile, half-hidden by his beard. His lips were full and sensual. Tommy had never noticed that before. They held each others' gaze for a few moments. then Alfie shrugged.

“No hard feelings, eh?” he said, balling up the bloodied handkerchief and stuffing it into his coat pocket. “Just need to teach you to mind your manners if you’re going to call this city home.”

Tommy snorted. "Home. What's that to you or me? The wandering gypsy. The wandering Jew.” It was more about himself than he usually liked to disclose, but he felt opened up by Alfie's ministrations, almost drunk.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, son," Alfie said. "Gypsies, tinkers, whatever you call yourselves, yeah. Eternal wanderers, you lot. Wandering the face of the fucking earth. But me? Me, my family, all of us, we have a home, and it doesn't belong to the Turks anymore. Eretz Israel, _bubeleh_. Palestine. Going there myself one of these days."

Tommy liked to believe that he could read people. In truth, they rarely surprised him. But Alfie did now. It was the last thing he'd expected, this talk of the mystical homeland of the Jews. He studied Alfie's face again looking for signs that he was taking the piss, or plotting something. He found none. But there was something new in Alfie's eyes, he though: a challenge, maybe, or an invitation. 

Tommy shook his head. Lunatics; everywhere he turned, lunatics.

**Author's Note:**

> Image of Jewish diamond merchants in Hatton Gardens, London in the 1920s from [Haaretz](http://www.haaretz.com/life/arts-leisure/london-s-diamonds-and-jews-are-forever.premium-1.518280).


End file.
